Have you ever been so focused during a diaper change that while scrubbing the poop off your child’s behind you fail to realize you are flattening them like a pancake until they yell out, “Mommy squish me!”
No?
Me neither.
Category Archives: parenting
My Son Said It
What I thought was just being tired from visiting with a friend turned out to be pneumonia today for my 9 year old.
One trip to the doctor’s office, one trip to the lab for blood work, one trip to the hospital for x-rays, one drive thru trip to McDonald’s, a second trip back to the doctor, and finally a trip to the pharmacist resulted in two very cranky children.
Just like them, I was tired and a bit frustrated while trying to get dinner made.
Little did I know that right after dinner we would all be laughing uncontrollably.
My nine year old was recalling for my husband how he had blood taken from his finger earlier in the day. “I even had the finger prick. That’s the most painful way to give blood.”
My husband said, “Well, I think giving blood intravenously would be more painful.”
With a scrunched up face my son said, “Intrapenisly?”
We all started to chuckle.
“No, intravenously is usually through your arm.”
“Oh, because I was thinking intrapenisly would really hurt.”
We all lost it at that point.
Of course, things quickly went downhill when our six year old had to stand up and demonstrate what giving blood intrapenisly might look like (with his clothes still on, thank goodness).
What’s the worst part of this?
For the next twenty years we will never be able to go to the emergency room with each other for fear that we will burst out laughing while the doctor is giving orders.
Storybook Valentines
While the Angry Bird Valentines I made for my boys are great, they weren’t really appropriate for my 2 year old.
So…I made Storybook Valentines.
All of her favorites characters are here.
We taped a silly band bracelet to the back of the card and called it DONE!
If you’d like a copy of these valentines,click here.
If you decide to download, please consider becoming a follower of Big D & Me.
A Proud Mom
My six year old has come over to the dark side with me.
At least that’s the opinion of my husband.
To really understand this scenario you have to go back with me thirty years.
The place I remember going out to eat more than any other growing up is Pancho’s.
Glorious Pancho’s.
Enchiladas made with cheese from a can.
Tamale sauce with a one inch top layer of fat.
Sopapillas still dripping in oil.
And the pinatas at your birthday…….
…..don’t even get me started over that thrill.
When our family gets together at the holidays, there has to be at least one trip to Pancho’s.
Well, my husband doesn’t get it.
Neither does my brother-in-law who is married to my sister.
They’re what we like to consider, “Pancho outsiders.”
They weren’t as fortunate as us to grow up with this delicacy so they don’t understand.
When our family goes to Pancho’s for the holidays, my husband always chooses to work that day. Whatever. More chiquitos for us.
So yesterday, my son and I were discussing places to eat for my birthday.
“No way,” was my response when Steak n’ Shake was suggested.
“No can do,” when Pizza Hut was offered.
But then he said, “What about Pancho’s?”
“Now there’s an idea son. I like it.”
And then he said the words I will never forget.
“When I grow up I want to work at Pancho’s so I can eat their food everyday.”
There just couldn’t be a prouder moment for this mom.
My family was equally proud when I told them.
Imagine, mother and son eating lunch together everyday enjoying tacos and refried beans.
Just the two of us making wonderful memories.
After all, my husband will be stuck eating leftovers at the house because he never came over to the dark side.
The Kissy Girl
There is a kissy girl in kindergarten.
Normally I wouldn’t care.
But my son is in kindergarten, so I do.
My sweet innocent loving boy is in kindergarten WITH A KISSY GIRL!
The other day he came home saying, “Bambi kissed me on the lips.”
No her name is not really Bambi but I think it fits her nicely.
What do you mean Bambi kissed you on the lips?
“I was playing at recess and she walked up and kissed me.”
Do not let him see the steam rising from your head. Keep it together. Do not walk over to the school right now.
We then had a discussion about telling the teacher if something like this happens…and then I ran as fast as I could to my computer. My email was calm and clear, “Not sure if this really happened but wanted to make you aware of what my son is saying.”
About two hours later I took my children to the grocery store. As we walked passed the deli counter my son said, “That’s her.”
“What?”
“That’s Bambi over there.”
Cue my wide eyed glare and robotic head turn.
Cue the western music.
There’s going to be a showdown in the middle of Kroger.
“That’s her?”
“Yes.”
“Did she really kiss you on the lips?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to ask you for the last time, did she really kiss you on the lips? Because I’m going to walk over there and speak to her mommy and you better be telling me the truth.”
“Yes, she did.”
I slowly turned around and envisioned my near future. I’m going to be the crazy mom on the playground from now on. My son has probably made up this lie and now I’m going to look like a freak confronting someone who is holding 2 pounds of ham.
“Excuse me. Hi. I am Andrew’s mom and he told me something which I’m not really sure is true or not. He said Bambi kissed him on the lips on the playground.”
She turned to Bambi, “Did you kiss him on the lips?”
“No.”
Liar. You little liar. You kissed my son, you two bit tramp!
“You better tell me the truth. Did you kiss him?”
“No.”
“We will talk about this when we get home.”
“Like I said, I don’t know if it’s true or not.”
I felt awful the rest of the day and questioned my choice of approaching the mom. But I quickly felt vindicated when I received an email from his teacher the following day.
Apparently, “the kissing incident,” did happen. Andrew didn’t tell the teacher on duty because it wasn’t his teacher. It was corroborated by others. Andrew and Bambi have been informed that they need to stay away from each other and there should be no touching of any kind.
I can see the school playground from my house but have decided to wait on the purchase of high powered binoculars.
I may change my mind though since I will have more time on my hands.
My husband is now in charge of all grocery shopping.
You never know who I might see, and more importantly, what I might say.
She Wins
I put my daughter down to sleep in our bedroom over Christmas due to family staying in her room.
I put her to bed at 8:30.
At 8:45 she opened the door and I told her to go back to bed.
I didn’t hear from her again.
Roughly 12 feet away from my bedroom, my family and I continued to watch the Saints football game on tv.
At 10:20 I got up to go to bed and discovered this….
So at 10:30 all three of us ended up doing this.
At that point, why fight it?
Caroline 1, Mommy 0
Growing
I bought my nine year old these pants 4 weeks ago.
When I purchased them, the pants were at least two and a half inches longer.
Amazing what a steady diet of mac n’cheese and peanut butter sandwiches can do for the body.
Thank You
My husband and I are trying to raise our children to be well mannered, considerate, and respectable young people.
Emphasis on the trying.
They’re not walking around wearing white undershirts and smoking but some days I worry if we’re making any progress.
Thank you cards are big in our house.
I believe it’s important for kids to learn how to write them and send them each time they receive a gift.
So everyday for the past week, our kids have written a thank you card to someone who gave a present to them over the holidays.
I’m fairly sure my 6 year old’s thank you card proves we’re not succeeding in our goal.
The Post Office Every Year
Every December I stand in line at the post office and make the same vow:
Next year my husband will mail the packages for his family.
He will:
1 – Take all three children with him
2 – Fill out the customs paperwork
3 – Explain 17 times why the line doesn’t go any faster
4 – Hand out goldfish crackers
5 -Pick up and put down the two year old six times.
6 – Fill out different paperwork since the previous paperwork was for packages that weigh one ounce less than your package
7 – Tell the children 23 times to lower their voice.
8 – Wait while a woman trying to mail a package to Sweden doesn’t understand why her box needs to have an address or be closed.
9 – Sweep crushed goldfish under the counter and out of sight with foot.
10 – Listen to the post office worker explain the twelve thousand options for sending a package when all you want to do is scream, “JUST MAIL IT!”
Yes, I’m quite sure my husband will be the one mailing the packages next year.
Meeting
I’m not sure but I think I just attended a cult meeting.
There were adults in matching uniforms, teenagers in costume, a rustic bridge, the passage of young boys, and ceremonial rules which required silence during a ceremony.
I just attended my first Boy Scout meeting with my nine year old and frankly, I’m more than concerned.
As I sat there tonight I thought, “I actually encouraged this. I’m the one who suggested Alex be a scout.”
Scouting? Must be all about camping and derby car races, right?
No, there’s more, so much more.
The meeting tonight focused on the bridging ceremony of two weblo scouts going into an older boy scout troop.
The ceremony started out with the den leader telling the audience that this was one of the few solemn ceremonies in boy scouts.
Super. My two year old is with me and it’s the one night of a quiet ceremony.
Three high school boys then begin the ceremony dressed in Indian gear. I mean, leather pants, freaky looking colorful shirt, and a full on headdress. Not to be out done, the fourth boy wore a wolf on his head.
Then they began speaking. It was like a second grade play. No one knew their lines. As if all of the”uhs” and “ums” weren’t enough, there were several painful humming interludes.
It was weird.
I mean what teenage boys do you know want to play dress up and hum into front of a hundred people?
We left about twenty minutes into the ceremony.
I took my daughter’s, “I poopy,” as a cue and ran out of there as quickly as possibly.
This was my first boy scout meeting and quite possibly my last.
After all, I’d still prefer to think of boy scouts as more camping and less Village People.